


don't leave even one drop

by joppers



Series: MCU Kink Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Food Sex, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joppers/pseuds/joppers
Summary: A heat wave leads to an...interesting tactic to cooling down.





	don't leave even one drop

**Author's Note:**

> My 100th AoS fic is ice cream sex...seems fitting, honestly. Set in an au s4a where they have time for something like this/they weren't idiots. Title from Dim All The Lights by Donna Summer. Filling the square Food: Ice Cream. And a note: please don't try this at home, sugar + vaginas don't mix in real life because yeast infections are a thing! This is fiction and therefore we can pretend things like that don't exist.

It’s stiflingly hot on base.

The air conditioning had crapped out around ten am, and by noon the temperature’s up by at least fifteen degrees. Jemma and Fitz had escaped to their refrigerated lab while Daisy and Mack were attempting to cool one of the lounges with two industrial-sized fans, and Mace had ordered everyone non-essential home, in an attempt to get the amount of bodies in the building as few as possible.

Melinda sighs, and attempts to refocus herself enough to mediate. All she can feel is the sweat dripping down her neck, absorbing into her already-damp sports bra. She’d stripped down to just her bra and a tiny pair of shorts in an attempt to keep cool; her hair is even uncharacteristically up, piled messily to keep it off her skin.

She looks up at the knock on her door; it opens after a moment, and Phil ducks inside, arms full. He pauses at the sight of her, and she watches in amusement as his throat bobs, eyes straying to the valley of her breasts before they move back to her face.

“I raided the freezer,” he says by way of greeting, and Melinda arches an eyebrow. He holds up the tubs in his hands, letting her see. “I could only get vanilla and strawberry. Daisy threatened to quake me if I even contemplated the chocolate.”

Melinda snorts out a laugh at that, and uncrosses her legs, pushing herself into a standing position. Phil swallows again, eyes dipping to the expanse of leg she has on display, and if he had a collar to adjust, she’s sure he’d be tugging at it. Even he’s uncharacteristically dressed- an old, worn Communications Academy t-shirt she’d stolen more times than she can count over the years and a pair of basketball shorts he’s inexplicably fond of.

“No bowls?” she asks, nodding to the spoons in his hands, but no other utensils or dishware. Phil shakes his head, popping the tops of both cartons and handing her the strawberry one and a spoon. She takes it with a happy hum, digging into the already-half-melted treat.

Melinda sinks onto her bed, tucking her knees up to balance the plastic container and taking another mouthful. It’s cold against her tongue, sugary sweet as it slides down her throat. It’s an indulgence she rarely allows, and she closes her eyes and lets out a contented hum.

The bed shifts as Phil sits beside her, and she opens her eyes to find him smirking.

“That good?” he asks, and she elbows him before she dips her spoon into the container of vanilla that he has.

“This is the coolest I’ve been all day,” she tells him, and Phil nods, licking his spoon. The action sends a flicker of a totally different kind of heat through Melinda, and she shifts on the bed, swallowing hard.

“I tried sparring with Daisy this morning. Wouldn’t recommend it,” Phil tells her, and Melinda snorts.

“So I shouldn’t take you down to the mats right now?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow as she takes another scoop of ice cream, grinning around the spoon as Phil rolls his eyes at her. The ice cream has melted even more in the time they’ve been sitting in her warm room- a line of pink slips down her chin, and before she has the opportunity to wipe it away, Phil’s fingers are there.

They’re hot against her skin, slightly rough and calloused but still gentle against her mouth as he brushes the strawberry ice cream away. Unable to help herself, Melinda lets out an uneven breath, lifting her eyes to meet his.

The blue has darkened to near black, and heat slices through her again, settling low in her stomach. Melinda slowly lifts the spoon again, smearing ice cream over her mouth; Phil’s gaze flicks down to her lips, and she watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Melinda drags the spoon down her chin and over her neck before dropping it into the container, then shrugs her shoulders. “Oops.”

Phil groans, nearly tossing his own ice cream aside as he wraps his hands around her shoulders, tugging her into him. His tongue licks over her mouth messily, half-cleaning the cream from her lips before he’s kissing her. Melinda’s fingers curl into his shirt, opening her mouth under his.

He tastes sweet, like the vanilla ice cream, and underneath there’s the slightest bitter hint of coffee. She smirks at that, shifting into his lap, because of course Phil would drink coffee even on the most boiling hot day.

“What?” he asks like he doesn’t have a hand on her ass, and she shakes her head, leaning down to kiss him again as she shifts her hips against him. It draws another groan from him, and she sinks her teeth into his bottom lip, tugging gently. His hand squeezes her ass, shooting heat between her thighs, and she gasps out a breath, skin flushing.

“I think I’ve found a better use for that ice cream,” she murmurs when she pulls back, carding her hands through his hair. Phil lifts an eyebrow, interest clear in his face, and Melinda leans over, purposefully giving him a face full of her tits as she grabs the spoon from the vanilla ice cream beside him. She lifts it, smearing the melted white confection along her collarbone, shivering at the cool drops that slid down, disappearing into the gap between her breasts.

Phil’s tongue is rough against her skin, lapping the ice cream from her skin. Melinda can feel her nipples tightening in anticipation, and tugs at her bra over her shoulders, Phil’s hands joining to help her pull it off and over her head. She tosses it aside to join the pile of clothes from earlier, and Phil’s already brushing the strawberry ice cream-covered spoon over first one breast and then the other.

The contrast of the cool against her overheated skin pulls a moan from her- it pitches upwards into a cry as Phil’s mouth descends, her hand cupping the back of his head to tug him closer. More heat drips downwards as she feels herself getting wetter- her clit throbs, begging for attention, and she shifts against where she can tell he’s hard, feeling him groan against her breast.

Tugging, Melinda pulls at his shirt as Phil licks away the last of the ice cream, nipping at her breast and leaving a vivid red mark that Melinda enjoys more than she should. Once his shirt has joined hers on the floor, she smears melted strawberry over his chest, mouth descending to lick over his pectoral muscles as she pushes him backwards until he was laying on the bed.

“ _Fuck_ , Lin,” Phil grunts out as her teeth sink into his belly, biting where no one would see. She smirks, ghosting her hand downward until she can rub over his length, evident in the loose fabric of his shorts.

“Going commando now, are we?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow. Phil flushes in a way that’s almost show, sending a different kind of warmth through Melinda’s chest, and she bends to kiss his hipbone before tugging his shorts down and off. He helps her kick them away, leaving him bare, and something primal fills Melinda at the sight of him before her.

She’s barely able to brush her fingers over him before Phil is tugging her up, nearly ripping her own underwear in an attempt to get them off. She huffs out a laugh, spreading out against the mattress as Phil’s hands wrap around her thighs, pushing them outwards.

Her back arches at the swipe of his tongue up her slit; she gasps, crying out at the suck Phil gives her clit before he pulls away. Her chest heaves and she looks down her body at him, skin heating at the look on his face.

“Wanted to see what you tasted like first,” he tells her, voice low and rough and hitting all the right places- just before he grabs the spoon of strawberry and swipes it between her legs. While the ice cream isn’t ice cold anymore, it’s still significantly cooler than her heated skin, and she bucks, crying out. “ _Phil!_ ”

His tongue laps at the pink drips messily, and Melinda grasps at the covers beneath her, rolling her hips with the movement. She squeezes her eyes shut, panting, and tries to control her heartbeat as familiar pressure builds in her lower belly.

It’s embarrassing, how quickly she comes- it’s been years since she’d been eaten out, and the feeling of Phil’s tongue and teeth on her clit pushes her over the edge with a low keen. He keeps planting kisses on her inner thighs as she catches her breath, and Melinda rakes her hands through his hair, resting her head back against the covers.

Just as she opens her eyes, the unmistakable sound of the air conditioning kicking on sounds, and cold air blasts out of the vent near the door. Phil looks up her body, lifting an eyebrow- silently asking, she knows, if this had merely been a heat-induced interlude that was now over in the presence of the generators finally kicking in. In reply, Melinda tugs him up gently until she can kiss him, then uses the distraction to push him onto his back, straddling his hips.

She grins down at him, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she situates herself comfortably.

“We’re just getting started,” she answers the unsaid question, guiding Phil’s hands up to her hips, tilting her head back in pleasure when he gripped tightly. “Think you can keep up?”

Phil’s answer is to roll them again, and smother her laughter with his mouth.


End file.
